Day 008: One Song Mixtape
Summary: Midafternoon, Grey goes back to stand watch over the Grounders.
Date: 12 May 2016
Related: Leverage, Says I, Headbutt, and This Land is Our Land.
Grey BigDude Archer 


Secondary Passenger Hold, The Dropship
The top level of the dropship was once the secondary passenger cabin, hosting rows of seats, may against the dark gray walls. Emptied now of its seats, and stripped to bare metal, this level is much smaller and closer than the ones below. It has been refitted into The Box — the delinquent camp's makeshift lockup. The lighting here is dim, casting deep shadows in the far corners of the room. Some of the harness straps have been roughly knotted together to create shackles so that prisoners can be bound and fettered to the walls.
8 Days After Landing

Grey is strangely hesitant to return to the makeshift SkyBox today, for reasons entirely unrelated to the still-livid bruising at his brow and his throat. Well, not entirely unrelated. Still, he promised Jasin that he'd relieve him, so up the ladder he goes. Thump-thump on the hatch, and then he's up, casting a glance first to the big burly dude, and then the lady with the scary shoulders, making sure they're well back before he comes up the rest of the ladder. The hatch shuts with a clang, and he goes first to the Big Man with a waterskin, offering it out to him.

The Big Man takes it. They have been quite willing to accept food and water in the last day, but they are careful on the quantity, taking just enough to sustain themselves. Starvation and dehydration is not the way a Warrior goes, after all. As he accepts the water poured into his mouth, the Big Man ducks his head forward a bit to get a splash on his face and hair. Then he leans back and shakes it out, like a dog emerging from water.

Proving that he is human after all, Grey chuckles a little at the head-toss, hefting the waterskin up and actually pouring a bit of it over the larger man's head to wet down his face and hair a bit more. Shrugging a little helplessly, he steps back, draws in a little breath, and goes around the curtain to face the Archer. He stops his approach a couple of feet away, watching her sway… he can almost hear the music, actually, and his eyes narrow in thought for a moment. There's a moment longer, and then he drops one hand to his thigh, patting it in the same beat as the unheard music she's moving to.

The Archer looks up when she hears the thumped out beat on the boy's leg. Her swaying stops abruptly, and there is a certain flash of anger across her otherwise serene features. It is hard to say what exactly prompts the sudden, stark emotion… perhaps being caught in a reverie, or perhaps Grey attempting to join her in it. She tightens her jaw a bit, leaning back into the dropship wall. Her eyes do not falter from his presence, though she also does not invite him into casual conversation.

Grey meets that gaze, and then his eyes slide away to the dropship wall beyond her and he shifts his feet beneath him. Anger flashes across his face then, and he forces his gaze back, stepping forward and holding out the waterskin. One eyebrow lifts in silent question, his lips tight with self-directed anger.

That is new. Curiosity flashes across her features at first the change of his gaze and the flash of anger. She allows him to approach, making no attempts to threaten him. When he offers the waterskin, she offers a small nod. Not one to just sit and lean forward to accept the water stream, the Archer starts to rock and shift, trying to get her feet under her. It is a struggle with her arms bound, and she almost teeters to her side before she manages to swing a leg out and plant a foot. She starts to pull herself up to a crouch.

Grey draws back the waterskin as she begins to rock, but extends his left hand, aiming to catch the Grounder under her upper arm and help her rise into the crouch, or even up to her feet if that's what she desires. He tenses as he does, the muscles on the back of his upper arm standing out beneath his skin. Once she's settled..and provided she doesn't give kicking his ass another try, he brings the waterskin back up, holding it up to her lips.

The Archer does not flinch or wrench away from Grey's help, but permits it with a sullen acceptance. She is on her feet, standing a mere four inches shorter than the skaikru warrior. She leans forward and opens her mouth to accept the dribbling stream of water. Her hands open slowly, and her forefingers loosely curl to support Grey's hands to help guide the flow of water into her mouth. Unlike her companion, she does not take an opportunity to wet her skin or hair, perhaps taking that jab about wet t-shirts from Grey under advisement. She then takes a step back once she has had her share of water, ducking her head in a strained motion to wipe her chin across her shoulder.

Grey tenses further at the touch of her fingers to his hand, but allows her to determine the amount of water sloshed toward her mouth. He steps back as well when the Grounder warrior does, corking the waterskin and tossing it toward the guard at the hatch. And then he steps forward again, drawing up his (unfortunately kind of nasty) shirt from around his waist to offer it out for her to dry her face on.

The Archer lavishes in the moment of hydration, breathing deep and closing her eyes. Water can be sweet to a parched mouth. Her eyes open, spying the offered shirt. She hesitates. She can sense his tension, the way being close to her seems to spark the tightening of his shoulders. Perhaps the headbutt did more than just bruise both their respective craniums. She ducks her head slightly, allowing him to wipe the water clear of her skin. In this closeness, she starts to better size up the tall young man, though she does not make an aggressive move to test him again.

Grey lifts the shirt up in his hands, keeping them steady while she dries her face, and then drops his shirt around his waist again. He studies her jawline a moment, then snorts a laugh, finally speaking, "I think it's dirtier than before." He shrugs, stepping back then, "That better on your shoulders?" A nod indicates the bindings around her wrists and elbows.

The Archer relaxes a bit when Grey steps back, allowing her own tension to dissipate. Grey is someone she does not look away from for any reason, so she watches him with a unwavering resolve. The laugh seems to catch her off guard, and she lofts both brows high above her moss green eyes. Then she breathes out a slow exhale, shoulders rolling slightly. "Suitable," she says flatly.

Grey shakes his head at the response to his laughter, "What, you people don't laugh? Or call each other cute?" Yes, he still remembers her surprise from the day before. There's a moment's pause, and then he grimaces, frustrating flaring behind his eyes, "Might be for the best then. Maybe it means there's no damned girl drama." And then he flushes behind his dark skin, his eyes cutting away as anger and hurt flashes in them.

The Archer sighs in obvious frustration. "We laugh… we note attraction." Her teeth flash in a rather sharp smile, but it melts away as the boy offers up a strange and vulnerable moment. She turns slightly, though her gaze remains focused on the dark-skinned skaikru. She does not comment, not immediately, but she also does not snub him outright. She ducks her chin so that her forefinger can lightly scratch at the shallow cleft.

That anger settles deeper around Grey's mouth as his flush remains, turning away from the Archer and stepping away. His spine is as straight, for all that he looks down to the decking. If she were going to attack him, this would actually be a pretty ideal moment, as he is within her range as defined by the tether binding her to the wall.

Indeed, Grey would feel a sudden approach behind him, but it is not to attack. Instead, the Grounder has been drawn forward out of a strange instinct instead of actual threat. When and if he turns, she almost uncomfortably close to him and will even rock back a step to maintain a bubble of distance. "Uh gona nau hodnes komnau hod dep in." It is said smoothly, and almost softly, and then she takes another step back.

Grey doesn't actually turn right away, although he does tense up, his hands curling into fists as if anticipating an attack in the making. When it doesn't come after a long moment, he turns around slowly to face her again. The other guard in the dropship is watching carefully, one hand on the club stuck through his belt. Reaching up with one hand, he sticks a finger in his ear and 'squeaks' it around, calling back to a gesture from the day before, "Didn't catch that." A faintly smirking grin touches his lips, and he adds, "But I heard 'hotness,' so I'm gonna figure you were just telling me that someone as hot as me should be nose deep in it. And thanks, but I'm a little better than that." His armor is up again, even if his smile is still a little forced.

Then the Archer rolls her eyes. "No." She breathes out a heavy exhale, looking a middling of amused and bemused. "Heh-aw-deh ne-ss." Subtle, but still quite different from hotness. She pauses, and gestures with a slight flourish of her bound hand. "Love." She fixes the dark-skinned skaikru with a rather patient look at his own self-boasting. "A warrior does not love, unless she loves deeply." Beat pause. "Or he." Which is quite a lot more profound than Grey's assessment. "You are quick to that," she replies, noting his sudden shift.

Grey shrugs a little helplessly as she corrects him, that broad smile painted onto the facade of his features rather than taking hold, but it fades as she explains herself. He blinks, surprise replacing the cocky grin on his features, and almost begrudgingly, he nods, "Yeah." And then he admits, "Good saying." The commentary on his armor draws a shrug, "You spend two years in a cell, treated like shit, you see how you react." That, however, is not the cause of the armor. It was in place far before that.

The Archer casts him a smug look as if to say that she knows it is a good saying. She was the one who said it. Then she settles back into silence, taking a small step backwards once more. It is almost like she is retreating, sinking back into the half-shadows against the hold's wall. "You are not in a cell now," she half-murmurs as she turns slightly, showing her profile.

"Nope. Now I'm on an irradiated planet with a bunch of other criminals, under attack from people we didn't even know existed when we came down here." That grin is back, cocky and sarcastic, "Sounds like a great time to let my guard down, doesn't it? Especially around a woman who tried to jab her fingers into my throat when I was tryin' to do her favor." Now that Grey is no longer exceptionally close to the prisoner, the other guard has begun to lose interest a little, pulling out a leaf-wrapped package of nuts and berries and starting to eat.

The Archer watches him from her silent vantage point in the half-shadows. She says nothing at his accusations, drifting into profound silence as she watches him. Her gaze turns away, and she sinks heavily against the wall, resting her forehead on the cool metal. In one moment, the woman looks tired. To little food and just enough water — even if they are her choices — wear away at her. So she remains quiet, head leaning against the wall and her eyes almost closed.

Grey arches his eyebrows, "No 'thanks'?" He shakes his head a little bit, "Some day, if you make it out of here, Tree Crew, you'll thank me for doin' what I can to make things easier in here." Speaking of which, he casts a glance at the other guard, then digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out the headphones, "And maybe even tell me your name." And then he realizes something, and adds, "You should eat, or at least have some more water."

The Grounder flashes the young man a glower, but there is not tons of heart behind it. Four days in the dark, almost stuffy dropship, and she feels herself growing tired… tired of many things. She doesn't even notice him taking out the headphones, her eyes closed. At the quest for her name, the woman says something softly under her breath that is barely audible at the distance he stands from her.

Grey steps back a pace to pick up some of the food laid out on the ground, hefting a strip of roasted venison and then advancing again. He crouches down before the Grounder, holding out the venison in his left hand, and the earbuds — under cover of his body — in his right. "I said, you should eat, Archer come Tree Crew." The words may be phrased as a command, but they're not spoken as one. "If you don't, you'll start seeing and hearing things."

"Gideon," she breathes out suddenly when he tries a mangled naming. Her head turns then, and she looks at the offered food and then the earbuds. She rests her head back against the wall before slowly opening her mouth so he can put the bit of venison on her tongue and between her teeth. When done, she chews slowly and thoroughly before swallowing.

Grey blinks as she breathes her name, nodding slightly, "Lucian. Lucian Grey." He smirks a little as she opens her mouth for the food, then leans forward, setting the end of the strip on her lips and shifting around so that he can slip the earbud into her ear while his back is toward the hatch and his fellow guard. Once it's in place, he reaches back to his hip pocket, starting the track. It's been set to a quieter piece, something slow and trance-like, with a low, steady beat behind it. For a moment, he pauses there, both hands extended, and then he lets them both drop.

Gideon closes her eyes as he sets the earbud in place. She listens as the music pours out of the tiny speaker and into her head, filling all the spaces of weariness and exhaustion. She stretches open her hands a bit, allowing her fingers to open and then close in a slow movement. As the beat gives way to the soft, sharp notes of a piano, the Grounder looks up once more to stare at the skaikru poised above her in his crouch.

Either the player is on a very fortuitous shuffle, or Grey picked that very piece of music to fit the mood of the makeshift SkyBox. He meets her gaze, and then tears off another chunk of the venison, offering it out to her as well. It makes a good excuse for why he's that close that has nothing to do with the music player that he has kept his own little secret since picking it up from the battlefield 'salvage.' His dark eyes shift up from where they were studying her jawline and facial features to meet her hazel gaze.

Gideon accepts another bite, though this time she does not languish in the taste, but instead knows it is needed solely for sustenance. She holds their eyes for a longer moment than expected, half-expecting him to tear away from the long look. She releases a slow breath that seems to relax her both into the music and around Grey. Then her eyes close as the song begins to come to a close. Soon, it seems as though she is almost sleeping.

Grey holds her gaze as long as she will hold his this time, tearing another little piece of the venison and offering it out without any expectation that it will be taken. It makes a good excuse to linger through the end of the song. It may not be a mixtape, but it's his choice of songs that he's offering for her solace. His head bobs ever so slightly the music he can't quite hear, and as it draws to a close, he pops the excess bit of venison into his own mouth and retrieves the earbud, tucking it away and shutting it off before he rises.

When he rises, her instincts vibe slightly, and Gideon looks up through sleep-hazed eyes. Her watches him just for a moment, and then she curls away to find her own solace and hopefully sleep.

Grey nods ever-so-slightly, then turns back to the other guard as he starts across the small room, "Alright. Now to make sure the pretty one gets food too." It draws quiet laughter, and Grey steps to the other side of the parachute curtain to approach the Big Man.

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